


This Ghost In Our Bed

by arcaneheart



Category: Banana Fish (Anime & Manga)
Genre: Angst, Angst and Porn, Fantasizing, Grief/Mourning, M/M, Post-Canon, Riding, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-13
Updated: 2019-10-13
Packaged: 2020-12-14 04:48:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,183
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21009992
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/arcaneheart/pseuds/arcaneheart
Summary: Sing and Eiji try to find some small comfort in one another, but someone else is always on their minds.





	This Ghost In Our Bed

With Eiji, Ash was his sun and Sing his moon. Sing illuminated the best he could, but without the brilliance or the warmth. Sing tugged at the tides of his emotions, but Ash was the only one that gave him life. Sing was a mere satellite, helplessly orbiting. 

Without Ash, everything was cold. 

Sing wasn’t sure when the shift happened, when things between him and Eiji got complicated. Looking back now, it was probably when the nightmares started. 

It wasn’t until months after Eiji’s return to the US, when the reality he faced really began to sink in and the gravity of it all brought him crashing back down to earth. There were logistics to consider, a place to stay, the day to day complications of merely living. There was no plan when he returned to New York. Eiji had no other landing pad as he fell, so Sing stayed and instead offered himself. 

After he had regained a bit of lucidity and he’d finally begun to sleep again at all, the nightmares started. 

Eiji woke sometimes with a start and a startled cry, and the following moments were a stilted, tense stretch of time that sat on the edge between silence and anguished sobs. Sing kept still and listened through the wall, to make sure it calmed again. 

The first time things went too far, Eiji didn’t remain within the confines of his room to cry himself to sleep again. 

The first time it happened, there was a knock on Sing’s door, and Eiji stood there, waiting. 

Bashful by what he wanted but too afraid to be alone, Eiji lingered in the doorway wordlessly. Sing didn’t make him ask. He led Eiji over to the bed, rubbed gentle, soothing motions over his back as Eiji rested his head against Sing’s chest. 

It was muddled somewhere in the proximity of their bodies close together on the bed those nights as they sometimes talked, sometimes stewed silently in their thoughts. Somewhere after a drink, or two, to calm the nerves. 

One kiss. It was confided eventually, a thought reticent until loosened by the late night and a bit of alcohol. One kiss that Eiji had shared with Ash, and it weighed on him with each passing day. 

“It wasn’t even because he wanted to,” Eiji said in one of his more candid moments. “I don’t know if it would have ever happened again.”

Sing kissed him, then. Quiet, tentative, ready for Eiji to push him away. Able to feel Ash over his shoulder, watching as they both tread through murky waters of trepidation and a coiling desire that had been building inside of Sing since before he could understand what it meant. Eiji’s mouth was warm, inviting, and he wondered if this was what kissing Ash felt like too. 

Desire was something Sing grew to understand through a silhouette against the fiery backdrop of Golzine’s mansion. It was the tight grip of a hand that wouldn’t let go, even when it meant losing everything. It was a phantom whose edges were singed with guilt and pain, the want of always wondering what might have been. It was a memory he carried with him, a gift from Ash, piqued in a curious fourteen-year-old who didn’t know any better. 

After that night, Sing and Eiji fell together sometimes, fragile pieces on the bed they shared. Jagged fragments, they weren’t designed to fit together, but the broken things they’d become allowed them to pretend. 

It was in the way Ash’s name curled around Eiji’s tongue when Sing kissed him, letting Sing taste that sorrow. Eiji’s mouth was open and greedy and his lips glistened, reddened with the haste of their kiss, when Sing finally pulled away. Eiji’s eyes simmered, but they looked past him, instead, glazed over with want. 

Eiji could likely remember the warm moisture of Ash’s mouth, and he held his fingers against his skin where Sing was sure he was imagining the trail his tongue was making along the line of his neck, his jaw, the curved shell of his ear. As Sing moved to take Eiji’s arousal into his mouth, those fingers moved. Eiji probed into his own mouth with a slow thrust - maybe it was to muffle the low whine of pleasure he made instead of chasing the ghost of a kiss. Sing couldn’t tell. It didn’t matter. 

He took the length of Eiji’s cock into his mouth and could taste the lingering bitterness of precum as it spotted his tongue. He could taste Eiji so completely. Things intangible, like the trembling that set into his legs while Ash pressed a kiss to his mouth. The vibrations of Eiji’s soft vocalizations as they traveled down his spine. 

Ash drank his love while Sing drew out his desire.

Before Sing could bring him to the brink, Eiji stilled his motions. He pushed Sing upward, until he was sitting, and crawled over to press his lips to him again. Sing groaned at the contact, in anticipation of what Eiji might do next. Fingers grazed lightly at his cock as Eiji pressed against him, teasing him. Long dark hair fell over them in a thick veil, shielding them from the outside world. 

It was never enough to pretend with soft kisses and the touch of his own hand; he wanted more. 

Eiji climbed on top of him, dominant in a way that betrayed his usual gentle demeanor, in a way he could only allow himself to be behind closed doors. Legs parted with Sing’s arms hooked behind his knees, he took Sing inside of him. Sing gasped at the feeling of being enveloped by his body, the heat of their connection. Eiji rode his cock with a needy desperation, his moans turning into gasping pleas as his lips grazed along Sing’s neck with just a hint of teeth. 

Sing bucked his hips up to meet him, gentle rocking motions that would have felt loving under any other circumstances. 

While Eiji bit down and left dark territorial bruises, the specter of Ash whispered softly against his ear. He said all the things Sing needed to hear - _ it was okay, it wasn’t his fault, he alone could be enough. _

Hands in place at Eiji’s hips to keep him steady as he moved, Sing tried to let Eiji set the pace, but a particularly hard nip at his neck drove his hips upward and Eiji moaned against his skin. Sing was getting close, and the more he teetered on the edge, the more one pair of hands against his back felt like two. 

Sing could feel him there too, that facsimile of Ash they’d assembled from the broken pieces of emotion and memory that no longer had a home anywhere other than in this bed. So they let him in. 

Even with their bodies connected, Ash was between them, in their minds, visions in their sight, the voice in their ears. 

Trembling in his embrace, Eiji finally released. 

When they came, a wave of orgasm that pulsed through their bodies, they breathed Ash’s name into each other’s mouths. 


End file.
